AutoPilot
by Laura Castellano
Summary: Matt's bizarre way of driving while half asleep gets him into an accident, and a lot of trouble with both his partner and his boss.
1. Chapter 1

Auto Pilot by Laura Castellano

First posted 15 Oct 2006

Matt/Emily pairing

Summary: Matt's bizarre way of driving while half asleep gets him into an accident, and a lot of trouble with both his partner and his boss.

These characters don't belong to me, and I don't get paid for this stuff. I just do it for the love of the show.

A/N: I reworked a couple of sentences in chapter 1 to reflect what we learned in "Life Support" about how Matt's mother died. This story is set before the Mustang got torched in "Partners in Crime."

-----------------

"I gotta go."

"Not yet," Emily muttered, pulling him closer in her half-sleep.

Matt kissed her again and extricated himself. "I'll see you at the office," he whispered.

As his weight left the bed beside her, Emily awakened more fully. "Why do you have to leave?"

"Because I'm out of clean clothes here."

She sighed.

"Hey, I'm gonna go home, take a quick shower and change, and I'll meet up with you at the coffee machine."

"You didn't get much sleep last night," she reminded him, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Matt grinned. "Neither did you."

Emily couldn't help smiling at the reminder. "I mean," she explained, giving him a soft punch in the belly, "that you really shouldn't be driving. You're not awake. Hang on and I'll make us some coffee."

"Nah, I'm okay. I'll just put the car on auto-pilot."

Emily raised her eyebrows. "Auto-pilot? Matt, I know your Mustang is tricked out, but auto-pilot?"

"Yeah. I just put on the cruise control, lean back against the head rest, and close one eye. I can halfway sleep all the way home."

She sat up in bed at this. "Are you crazy? I don't want you splattering yourself all over the side of the road!"

"Aww, relax. It'll be fine. I do it all the time."

"How come I never saw you do that before?"

"Because I'm always wide awake when we're together." He kissed her once more for good measure, and Emily took the opportunity to run her fingers through his silky hair.

"I think you should stay and have some coffee, at least. Or shower here. That'll help wake you up."

"I'm fine. I'll see you later."

Matt slipped out the door before she could argue further, and Emily fell back to the bed. If she was lucky, she could still catch a half hour of sleep. She snuggled into Matt's pillow, inhaling the scent of him, but sleep refused to return. The thought of him driving in the way he had described made her more than a little uneasy, but she was aware of the futility of arguing with her partner. Finally giving up on sleep, she threw back the covers and headed for the shower.

-----------------

Matt grumbled under his breath when he stepped out into the drizzle. He hadn't realized, snuggled into bed with Emily, that it had begun to rain. He almost went back inside, but then convinced himself he was being silly. He was tired, but the roads between his place and Emily's were all but deserted at this hour of the morning, so he knew it was safe. He wasn't an idiot. It wasn't as though he was going to take his sleepy self onto the freeway. It was back roads all the way, and he'd be home in ten minutes.

Later on he couldn't have said whether the object that suddenly darted across the road in front of him had two legs or four. It could have been a child, or a large dog. The only thing he knew for certain was that if he hadn't slammed on the Mustang's brakes when he did, he'd have killed something.

The car's bright blue paint glittered in the streetlight as the Mustang swerved, spun, and came to rest, slamming sideways into the light's pole. In that split second before the airbags deployed, Matt felt his head slam into the window, a crushing pain in his left shoulder, and saw his mother's face as she lay dying in her hospital bed. Then, nothing.

-----------------

According to the clock on the dash, which perversely still glowed the time even though the car itself was a mess, less than fifteen minutes had passed since he'd crawled out of Emily's warm bed. Matt took a few moments to collect himself, and during that time realized that he was in a world of hurt. His left shoulder screamed in protest if he tried to move the arm, so he reached up with his right to wipe away the trickle of sweat running down his forehead. When he pulled his hand away and glanced down at it, he saw that it wasn't sweat, it was blood. Both legs hurt, although not as badly as his shoulder. 

With his good right arm (which was just about the only body part that wasn't killing him at the moment), he fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. With a grimace, he realized the seatbelt was still fastened. He managed to get free of it, and pulled out the phone. It slipped, and for a second he thought he was going to lose it between the seats. If that happened, he knew he'd never be able to fish it out again in his current condition, but with a breath of relief he caught it. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, that little voice of self-preservation that had been with him since he was a wee child yelled at him to dial 911, but his fingers weren't listening at the moment. He had Emily on speed dial. Calling her required less effort and no brain power at all.

He cursed weakly when there was no answer, and tried her number again. Still nothing. She either had her phone turned off, or she was in the shower. Matt rested for a moment, trying to think through the pounding in his head and the throbbing in his shoulder. He'd give Emily one more chance, and then it would have to be Cheryl. He groaned a little at the thought of alerting his boss to what had happened. She would have some choice words to say to him, of that he was sure. Still...

He pressed the number to dial Emily once more, and when there was still no answer, he decided to leave a message. "Em...I need help, I--" The muscle spasm that suddenly gripped his shoulder was worse than any pain he'd felt before, and his yell was gutsy and heartfelt. Desperately he groped for the button to disconnect, hoping he'd managed it before the voice mail picked up his cry. 

Breathing carefully, Matt rode out the pain until the spasm passed. Then, with trepidation but knowing he had no choice, he dialed Cheryl's number. To his relief, she answered on the second ring.

"What is it?" she asked curtly into the phone, and Matt wondered if she'd been awake already. It wasn't like Cheryl to be up and about before six a.m. At least, he didn't think so.

"Cheryl," he gasped, feeling his shoulder beginning to cramp again. "Help, I need help..."

"Matt?" Her tone changed to one of concern. "What's happened? Where are you?"

"Somewhere--on the road between--my place and Emily's," he managed, gritting his teeth to bite back the scream that wanted to escape. Matt had never been shot in the line of duty, but he couldn't believe that could hurt worse than this. Whatever he had done to his left shoulder and arm, he'd bet the resulting agony was far worse than childbirth. He'd have to discuss that with someone who would know. Eventually.

"What happened?"

"Car skidded. Just me, nobody else--involved."

"Did you call an ambulance?" 

Matt was silent.

"Call 911," Cheryl instructed crisply. "They can locate your position. I'll try to get in touch with Emily."

"Called her. No--no answer." 

"Well I'll call again," Cheryl snapped. "Surely she's at home. You just left her there, didn't you?"

Matt didn't stop to wonder what his boss was thinking. "Yeah."

"Then call an ambulance. I'll see what I can do from my end."

Cheryl disconnected, and Matt shakily obeyed her. He was freezing, and he knew he shouldn't be, which meant shock was setting in, and who knew what else. He was worried about the pain in his legs, but more occupied with the pain in his arm. The trickle of blood down his face was becoming more of a rivulet, and the pounding in his head was beginning to fight with that in his shoulder for supremacy.

He gave all the information he could to the 911 operator, then tried Emily again. There was still no answer, and he fought to keep the irrational anger that wanted to emerge at bay.

Where could she be?

----------------- 


	2. Chapter 2

-----------------

Emily savored the hot shower as long as she could. She had scented body wash, lots of steam...the only thing missing was Matt. Thoughts of her partner made her remember his odd description of driving. Was he serious? 

Worried, now that she was awake, turned the water off. Had that been her cell phone ringing? She listened, but heard nothing. Deciding she was being overly jumpy, she began to dry herself. She had gotten as far as scented body lotion when she heard the phone ring. This time, the sound was unmistakeable. In her haste, Emily tripped over her own feet and nearly fell on her face, so the ringing stopped again by the time she got to the phone. She stared at the small device in confusion. She had missed four calls?

Then, realizing it had to be Matt, she relaxed. What was he up to now? A sweet shiver ran through her body as she remembered the night they'd shared. She'd call him back, but first, she wanted to hear what he'd left on her voice mail. Knowing Matt, it would be something deliciously dirty.

Her smile faded when she realized the fourth call was not from Matt, but from her boss. Why would Cheryl be calling at this hour, unless--

Emily connected to her voice mail, anticipation slowly turning to fear. The fear solidified into sheer terror when she heard Matt's message.

"Em...I need help, I--" The scream that punctuated the message made her go numb all over.

"Matt!" she yelled into the phone, feeling stupid, but desperate to connect with him. Before she could berate herself for slipping toward hysteria, the next message began.

"Emily," Cheryl's voice came crisply over the line. "Matt's been in an accident. I told him to call an ambulance, but he was somewhere on the road from your place to his. I'm going to have someone at the office track his--"

Emily didn't wait to hear the rest. She threw on her clothes and headed for the door. She knew the route Matt usually took, and just prayed he hadn't deviated from it.

"Auto pilot!" she seethed to herself as she drove. "I should have made him stay. I should have cuffed him to the bed."

Any further ruminations died when she saw Matt's wrecked Mustang just ahead. Two police cars and one ambulance lit up the night with their flashing lights. She could see a form that had to be her partner being wheeled toward the ambulance.

"Wait!" she shouted as she jumped from her vehicle. "Wait a minute!"

-----------------

Voices flew around Matt like a whirlwind.

"Sir, can you tell us where you're hurt?"

"Head...sh-shoulder--"

"Left or right shoulder, Sir?"

"Left." 

"Does your head hurt just where you hit it, or all over?"

"Just--just where I hit."

"Anywhere else?"

"Legs."

"Upper legs? Lower legs?"

"A-ankles, I think."

"Can you tell me your name?"

Questions fired at him from left and right, and Matt tried to answer them all as the paramedics slowly and gently extricated him from the car. 

"Jason, you got his vitals?"

"Stable."

"Get an I.V. started. I'll call it in."

"Any possible signs of concussion?"

"Sir, do you know if you blacked out?"

"Yeah, for a little while," Matt managed, fighting his confusion. He was slightly disoriented, and if not for the pain, he would have believed he was dreaming.

"Are you nauseated?"

"No."

"Pupillary reaction good."

Matt found himself strapped to a stretcher, which was raised suddenly toward the sky. He clutched at the side, feeling dizzy and afraid that he'd fall, but one of the paramedics lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"You're not going anywhere, don't worry. We've got you strapped down good."

In the confusion, Matt thought he heard Emily's voice calling to him, and he tried to answer as they wheeled him toward the ambulance.

"Emily--" His voice caught , and the sound was minimal, but she heard him. In a moment she was beside him. He reached for her with his right hand, the one that didn't ache.

"Matt, I'm here." She squeezed his hand lightly. "You're going to be all right."

"Ma'am, are you a relative?"

"I'm his--we work together."

"Emily, don't let them take me to the hospital!"

"What are you talking about? Of course they're taking you--"

"If I go in, I'll never come out! Don't let them take me--"

Emily was confused at Matt's agitation, but did her best to calm him.

"Matt, relax. You're hurt, not that badly, but you need medical treatment. I'll be right there with you. I'm going to follow the ambulance, and I'll be there every step of the way."

"Don't let them put me on a respirator! Don't let them--"

"Respirator!" Emily glanced up at the nearest paramedic. "Is he going to need a respirator?"

"I'm not a doctor, Ma'am," the man told her, focused on getting Matt into the ambulance. Her hand on his arm stopped him.

"Please, just tell me what you can." 

Emily's calm yet forceful tone made his face soften.

"The ER doc will have to take a look at him, Ma'am, but just between you and me, I don't think you need to worry about that."

"Shh!" Emily leaned down close to his face, her hands on his cheeks and her eyes telling him it would all be okay. "Nothing is going to happen to you, Matt. I promise. No respirator. You're going to be fine."

His brow furrowed in pain and fear, and he protested once more, "Don't let them--"

Emily smoothed back his hair with her soft hands. "Trust me," she whispered. "Just trust me."

He stared into her eyes for a few seconds before giving that little nod, the one that meant he would play it her way for the time being. Emily sighed in relief. 

"I'll be right behind you," she called to Matt as the ambulance doors closed, shutting her out.

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	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for being patient with me on the posting of this story. I just finished classes for the semester, so there shouldn't be as much of a wait for the next part.

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Emily squeezed Matt's hand just as the paramedics loaded him into the back of the ambulance and out of her reach. She turned toward her car, and was startled to see Cheryl right behind her.

"How is he?"

"He's--ah--I'm not sure, but--ah--"

"Is he conscious?" Cheryl asked crisply.

"Yeah."

"Did he know what was going on?"

"Too well. He's freaking out about having to go to the hospital. Something about a respirator--"

"They have him on a respirator?"

"No!" Emily rushed to reassure their boss. "He was afraid of that, but the paramedic said it wouldn't be necessary."

Cheryl placed both her hands on Emily's shoulders and looked her squarely in the eyes. "All right, Lehman, I need to you listen to me. Are you with me?"

Emily nodded.

"Matt's going to be all right. If he's conscious and complaining, that's a very good sign. You know that."

"Right."

"So what I need you to do is head over to the hospital and be with him. He's going to be scared. He doesn't like hospitals. Bad experiences in the past. You have to keep him grounded. That means you have to keep yourself grounded first. You got that?"

"Yes ma'am."

Cheryl smiled. "Good. I'll take care of having his car towed, and I'll talk to the police. You just take care of your partner."

Emily was behind the wheel almost before Cheryl finished speaking.

-------------

"Mr. Flannery, I take it you're in a lot of pain. I want to help you out with that. Do you know if you're allergic to any drugs?"

Matt thought frantically. Was he? It seemed like there was something... "Penicillin," he finally said. "I'm allergic to penicillin."

"Have you ever had a bad reaction to any pain medications, Morphine, Demerol?"

Matt tried to shake his head no, and grimaced when his shoulder screamed. "No."

"Okay, great. I'm going to put some medication in your IV now that will help with the pain."

"Don't knock me out!" He fought against the full-blown panic that tried to consume him. Even an irrational fear is a valid fear, he told himself. And considering how his mother had died, this fear might not even qualify as irrational. It might just be a little misplaced.

"I won't give you enough to knock you out. You need to be awake to talk to the doctor when we reach the hospital. It will probably make you feel drowsy, but it won't necessarily put you to sleep."

Even as the man spoke, Matt felt the instant head-rush that comes from intravenous morphine. Seconds later, he was floating on a cloud. The pain was still there--he could feel it as if from a distance--but somehow it didn't really bother him at the moment. Modern pharmacology, he decided in his blissfully fuzzy state, was a miracle.

By the time the ambulance reached its destination, Matt was much calmer. He tried to look around for Emily as they wheeled his gurney off the ambulance, but there were too many people around for him to get a clear view.

"You okay, Mr. Flannery?" the paramedic whose badge read 'Jason Elbert' asked.

"Looking for my partner. She said she was gonna follow."

"The tall, good-looking one that was with you at the scene?" Jason grinned.

Matt returned his smile, feeling as if the world was moving in slow motion. "Yeah."

"I think I see her running across the parking lot right now. I'm going to turn you over to the nurse now. I'll tell your friend what's going on. Good luck to you, Mr. Flannery."

By the time Matt processed what Jason had said and returned a weak, "Thanks," he was inside a curtained cubicle. 

"Sir, can you tell me your name?"

Matt looked up at the young nurse with the perky smile, and felt his panic returning.

"Matt Flannery. Where's my partner?"

"Mr. Flannery, I'm going to check your vital signs. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Stupidity. Car wreck. Is Emily here?"

"I'm here." Emily stepped through the curtain and moved to Matt's side, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm right here, Matt. Everything's going to be okay."

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	4. Chapter 4

The nurse covered him with a heated blanket, and Matt basked in the warmth. The cold he'd noticed earlier while still in his smashed car hadn't left him. She asked him questions, and mostly Emily answered them for him, but Nurse Perky didn't seem to mind. She just wrote everything down, poked and prodded him in half a dozen places, took his vital signs, and left him alone, for which he was grateful.

Emily pulled a chair up close beside him, and being careful of the IV tubing, took his unburdened right between both of hers.

"I'm sorry, Emily," he muttered, fighting the drowsiness caused by the medication. "Stupid."

"What's stupid?"

"Me."

Emily shook her head, smoothing back the hair from his forehead and dropping a quick kiss there. "We all do stupid stuff, Matt. Sometimes I think we're just lucky if we don't kill someone else with our stupidity."

"You're not mad at me?"

"I'll be mad at you later. Right now I'm just thankful you're still in one piece."

"Sort of, anyway. He grinned weakly, then felt his eyes drooping again, and succumbed to the painkiller for a few moments. Emily's voice stirred him back to the here and now.

"You going to sleep on me?"

"Just resting my eyelids a little." 

Matt wasn't sure how long he rested his eyelids, but when he lifted them again, his nurse had returned with a doctor, and the pain was beginning to work its way through the fog of medication that had been protecting him.

"Mr. Flannery, I'm Doctor Milburn. Looks like you had a bit of an accident."

Matt didn't bother replying to that. He saw Emily roll her eyes a little behind the doctor's back, and tried not to smile.

With an intensity of concentration akin to that Frank exhibited when he was about to take out an HT, the doctor looked him over from head to toe, paying special attention to his sore shoulder and both ankles. Matt winced when he probed the right, but when the doctor touched his left ankle, he yelped. 

"Sorry about that." His examination completed, the doctor re-covered Matt with his warm blanket. Chilled a bit from the exposure, Matt shivered. Emily immediately tucked the blanket more closely around him, and he smiled his thanks.

"You've slightly dislocated your shoulder," Dr. Milburn continued, "and I'm going to put it back in place now. You may feel some discomfort. I'm going to have Karen hold you in place a bit, so don't panic."

The nurse, whose name was evidently Karen, positioned herself at Matt's head, and clamped tightly on his uninjured right shoulder. With a movement almost too quick to see, Dr. Milburn slipped his shoulder joint back into place. The agony was intense for a moment, and Matt gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. Seconds later, the pain in his shoulder was all but gone. The only thing in its wake was a residual soreness, far milder than what he'd been feeling for the past hour.

"Hey, that's great," he said, amazed, and Dr. Milburn nodded.

"It always seems miraculous," he agreed. "Unfortunately, I can't treat your other ailments quite as magically. I'm going to send you for some X-rays in a few minutes, and we'll see what else we're dealing with. How's your pain level at the moment? Medication beginning to wear off a bit?"

"Yeah, a little. Shoulder feels ok now, but I have a hell of a headache. Ankles still hurt."

"Especially since I poked around on them, right?" Dr. Milburn grinned, and Matt decided maybe he liked this guy after all. "Karen will put a little more Morphine in your IV in a few minutes. That will help you get through the X-rays. You're going to need a few stitches in your head, but we'll take care of that afterwards."

"Stitches? C'mon, Doc, are you sure I need stitches?"

"Pretty sure, yes." There was only a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but at Emily's steady look, the doctor moderated his tone. "Don't worry about the amount of blood, however. Head wounds normally bleed quite a bit, and that's nothing to worry about. The good news is that you don't show any signs of concussion. It looks like you just banged your head against the window and got a nasty cut."

While the doctor had been talking, Karen had slipped out of the cubicle and returned with another syringe of FeelGood. As his pain ebbed toward the fuzzy edges of his consciousness, Matt heard his speech begin to slur.

"I guess. I don't really remember...all happened too fast."

"You have a pretty nasty gash on your head, Matt," Emily told him. She gave his arm a pat of sympathy. "Don't worry, I'll hold your hand."

They both disliked needles, but where Emily always viewed them as a necessary evil, Matt avoided them like the plague, and he knew he would need two, possibly three injections of local anesthetic to deaden the area to be stitched. Having seen Emily receive similar treatment in the past, he knew the injections were far worse than the actual stitches. 

"Gee, thanks."

"Just rest for a few minutes, Mr. Flannery, until someone comes to take you to X-ray." With that, Dr. Milburn ducked around the curtain and was gone.

They didn't have to wait long. Less than ten minutes passed before an enormous man with a big smile and a gentle manner came to wheel him away. Matt held out his hand toward Emily as he floated past her, and she gave it a good squeeze.

"I'll be right here," he heard her say.

He might have dozed on the way to X-ray, or it might have only been a ten second walk from the ER. He wasn't sure, but before Matt was aware of any time passing at all, he had been turned over to a small woman wearing a scrub jacket with little penguins all over it. That was appropriate, Matt thought, since the temperature in the room was roughly four degrees Fahrenheit.

"F-freezing!" he complained as she took his blanket away and positioned him for the first X-ray.

"Sorry," she replied briskly, not sounding sorry at all. "It's always a little chilly in here. I'll be finished with you in a few minutes, and you can cover up again."

Matt endured the cold, and from far away was vaguely aware of some pain as she moved his feet and legs into different poses. Finally, when she finished, she produced another of those wonderfully warm blankets to replace his old, cooled-off one. She handed him back over to the orderly, whose name he learned was Geoffrey, and Matt felt the world whirling past as they left the room.

"Woah," he said, feeling a bit of motion-sickness.

"You okay?"

"Just a little..." Matt placed his hand over his stomach, as if that would somehow hold back the steadily growing nausea. "I'm--I need--" He tried to warn Geoffrey of impending danger as his gurney was returned to his cubicle, but the orderly was way ahead of him.

"Just try not to fight it," he advised, and Matt saw that he was already holding a plastic basin in front of his patient. "That just makes it worse." Geoffrey gently raised his head a little, and none too soon.

Matt didn't have much left in his stomach from the night before, but everything that had managed to hang around this long made an appearance. He felt as if the spasms went from his toes to his head. Finally, with a look of relief, he collapsed back onto the pillow.

Karen reappeared with a cup of water, and he managed to take a sip or two through the straw and spit it back up. His mouth felt as though a rhinocerous had crawled inside it to die.

"I'm going to put some more medicine in your IV to help with the nausea," Karen was saying as he rinsed and spit, and five minutes later approached him with another syringe. This time he didn't feel a rush as the medication entered his IV, but he was too spent to really care. The pain in his left ankle was growing worse, as though the twisting and turning he'd endured in X-ray had aggravated it. He no longer felt sick, but the weakness that always accompanied a bout of vomiting still hadn't left him. All in all, he was just miserable.

"Do you have your weapon on you?" he whispered to Emily after Karen left.

"No, why?"

"I was hoping you could put me out of my misery."

Emily smiled and warmed his hand between hers again. "Just try to go to sleep, Matt. My theory has always been that you can't hurt while you're sleeping."

Matt closed his eyes and tried to obey. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Gruesomeness warning for this chapter. Sorry it's a short one, but I had an incredibly tough time getting it to come out right. Hope it does not disappoint. 

------------------

The nausea medication combined with the Morphine proved too much for Matt, and he fell into a deep sleep. Later, he would describe it as a coma, although it wasn't a true one; he did not dream, and had no awareness of time having passed. When he opened his eyes, Emily was gone. The room was freezing cold, and as silent as the grave.

He fumbled around for the call button, but couldn't find it anywhere, so instead, he tried calling, "Hey!"

There was no answer, but his throat was dry, and it surely hadn't been his best shouting voice. He tried again. "Hey! I need some help in here!"

Matt expected to hear footsteps running his way, or at least a voice responding to him, but again, he heard nothing.

He sat up on the gurney, clutching its sides for balance when a wave of dizziness took him by surprise. Slowly, carefully, put lowered his bare feet to the icy floor and forced himself to stand up.

Half a second after he put weight on his ankles, he fell, and this time he didn't even try to hold back his yell. The pain he'd been feeling in his legs earlier had just increased tenfold, and suddenly the Morphine they had given him seemed no more effective than a simple aspirin. Maybe half an aspirin. Baby aspirin.

He managed to grab the edge of the gurney and ease himself the rest of the way down. Now he was lying full out on that sub-zero tile floor, and he didn't even want to consider what his hospital gown wasn't covering.

"Need some help here!" he called again. "Emily? Doc? Karen?"

The eerie silence was beginning to get on his nerves. Matt tried to crawl toward the cubicle's opening, and felt something tugging on his arm. He looked down, and gasped in horror. Skeletal fingers--too abnormally long to be those of a human skeleton--had latched onto his left hand and were squeezing it hard. The nails scrabbled and scratched at his skin until blood began to run from his hand in deep, dark rivulets.

This time, Matt didn't hold back. "I need some help!" he yelled. "Emily! Someone help me!"

In the next second, the room changed. It was suddenly warmer, though not nearly warm enough, and there were the expected hospital background noises--voices murmuring, machines beeping--and most importantly, Emily was there.

She and Karen each grabbed an arm and lifted him from the floor back to the gurney. Karen staunched the bleeding from his pulled IV with a clean washcloth while Emily found a wet one and began wiping blood from his arm.

"Matt, what on earth were you doing?" she scolded. Then, seeing how her partner shivered, she tucked the blanket tightly around him. "I'll hold that, you get him some more warm blankets. He's freezing," she directed, taking over the pressure cloth from the nurse.

Karen didn't argue. She left, and was back in a flash with two more of the heated blankets. The two women removed the chilled blanket and covered Matt with the warm ones. Matt closed his eyes, still shivering, and tried to figure out what the heck was going on. Things just weren't making sense.

The bleeding stopped at last, Karen told Emily, "I'll have to restart his IV. Be right back."

Emily nodded. "How did you manage to fall out of bed?" she asked him when they were alone.

Matt started to shake his head, remembered the cannonball rolling around in there, and thought better of it. "I didn't fall," he whispered urgently. "Emily, there's something really wrong with this place."

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't know what you mean."

He didn't have time to explain before the nurse returned.

Matt still felt the pain from the fingers that had ripped at him a few minutes earlier, but when he forced himself to look at his hand, it appeared normal, except that his IV was gone. That was odd. He couldn't remember anyone removing it. On the other hand, he was beginning to feel sleepy again, and it was entirely possible it had been removed while he was out. He knew the drugs were doing a number on him.

He stared at the ceiling, waiting to feel the prick of the needle in his arm, but it never came. Instead, there was a flash of silver, and Matt found himself plunged into the most gruesome type of horror movie. The needle in Karen's hand had changed into a scalpel, and as Matt watched horrified, she turned toward Emily, grabbed a handful of his partner's hair, and slit her throat.

Emily's blood gushed forth, splattering the floor and drenching him with its warmth. He tried to reach for her, but found he was unable to move. Karen dropped Emily to the floor and turned her attention back to him. He was vaguely aware that Emily was still alive, that she was making a choked effort to speak, but his eyes were glued to the scalpel in Karen's hand.

All at once, he could move again. He twisted, struggled, tried to pull away from her, called for help, and it was all a wasted effort. Even before he could slide away from her, several more hospital employees appeaed out of nowhere, holding him down, keeping him helpless while Karen stuck her scalpel in his arm, not just into his vein, but ripping it up his arm, ripping the veins out from under his skin and splitting them, so the blood flooded down his arm and made an ever-widening pool of harsh red against the white tile of the floor.

Matt fought as hard as he could, but he could feel his strength ebbing out from his wounds. And Emily--he could no longer hear her. She was still. Dead. Adrenaline coursed through him, and for a moment he thought he just might make it, but even as he made one last desperate attempt for freedom, a plastic mask was brought down over his nose and mouth. He just had time to register an odd smell before he found himself losing consciousness. Even though he fought valiantly to keep his eyes open, in the end, there was no way he could win.

Matt felt himself sinking into blackness, and then it was cold again.


End file.
